Redemption
by phoenix521
Summary: spikecentric fic set to 'redemption' by switchfoot. after 'hard luck woman' and through the rest of the series. just some thoughts that might have been running through spike's head then. rated for some language, but why not give it a try?


**so i thought i wouldn't be posting anything until the 'pages' sequel was ready to go up, but i got hit real hard by inspiration. this time, the fic is set to "redemption" by switchfoot. it's probably my favorite song of theirs, so i'm surprised i haven't turned it into a fic before now. but anywho...**

**this is set right after 'hard luck woman' and continues on through 'rfb pt.2'. it's more spike-centric, and surprisingly has a lot of religious references in it. now, i'm no die-hard religion gal, and i'm not going to get into all of that here, but the bible and bebop go well together , sometimes. so i hope that doesn't through you off, and if i got anything wrong, just overlook it, please.**

**well, that's enough rambling, i'll let you read now. i hope you enjoy!**

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_Four a.m. two hours ago,  
I'm wearing out a lonely glow._

It was mid-summer, so the sun rose earlier then it did the day before, just as it would rise earlier tomorrow. It wasn't every day the Spike watched the sun rise, but this morning, he'd made an exception. On top of the Bebop, perched next to the pinwheel that Ed had taped their, the cowboy slowly blew out the smoke from his fading cigarette.

As he watched the sky fade from black to blue, Spike counted the stars as they faded from view. The glow of each one dimmed until no star was left to be seen, a feeling that Spike could somehow relate to. Turning his head with his next exhale, he took a finger and spun the blades of the pinwheel, noticing how the light reflected off of each one. Plucking it from resting spot, Spike decided to take the toy inside when he went. If left where it was, it would only fall off in the wind.

Spike looked out over the red desert where the Bebop had landed, thinking for a moment on how it reminded him of Mars. He wondered where the Ed had gone, since there wasn't civilization around for a few miles or so. But he shrugged it off, figuring that the girl had had her fair share of wandering in her short lifetime. At least she had a loyal companion this time around, seeing as though Ein was nowhere around, either.

His thoughts then drifted to the other female that had briefly inhabited the ship. More often then not, his thoughts eventually drifted to her. There was just something about her that…intrigued him, and God knows it took a lot for Spike to be intrigued. He wondered where she had vanished to, as well, but didn't think on things too hard. Whereas Ed's disappearance could mean that she was gone for good, Faye's on the other hand, only meant that she'd inevitably return. She always came back. Like the cat in that old, earth kid song he'd stumbled upon, she just wouldn't stay away.

Blowing out the last bit of smoke that he was able to drag from his cig, Spike flicked the finished bud into the wind, losing track of it in the sky. He pushed himself up from his none too comfortable seat, and made his way back inside. It wasn't his way, dwelling and all (yeah right), so he wasn't going to start now. Tossing on last glance over his shoulder, just to see the sun continue its arch, Spike turned back around and got lost inside the ship.

_I miss you more than I can know.  
__Here I am, here I am,  
__Won't you get me?_

It was still early, the clock on the re-heater in the kitchen reading only half past six. Spike shuffled through the Bebop, glad that he wouldn't run in to Jet. He wandered through the whole of the ship, trying to remember the last time he'd given the place the once over. He stumbled upon rooms he had long forgotten about, like the room filled with boxes marked "ISSP", or the room where the furniture was covered in sheets.

He clinked down the stairs by the cock pit, thankful that there was no frog to tell him that he was on the "stairway to hell". He didn't need a frog to tell him that, he'd been heading that way for a while, now. Cruising by the yellow couch, the Bebop's signature piece of furniture, Spike pulled his mouth into a tight line as he eyed the cigarette butt with the crimson lip prints.

Running a hand through his hair, Spike continued on. As he went, he yawned wide and long, remembering that he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. He and Jet had spent most of the evening and part of the night searching for Ed and Ein in the red-orange wasteland around them. After they had consumed dozens upon dozens of eggs, the men had taken up flashlights and searched the area.

When they didn't find her, they had given up. There was no need to waste energy if the girl had gone. Besides, if she wanted to get on to the Bebop again, they knew first hand that she'd gladly let herself back on. And they hadn't even bothered to look for Faye. It wasn't like she hadn't done anything like this before. But this time, for some reason, things felt more…final. Neither Jet nor Spike brought it up, but there was an undeniable feeling that what those four had created had officially come to an end.

Heading for his room, Spike decided that he'd catch up on the sleep he had neglected. But to get to his room, he had to pass _hers_. At first, he walked by as if it where nothing. In truth, it _was_ nothing. He doubled back, though, curious to get a peak at life behind the vixen. Strolling into her room, Spike flicked on the light, letting the dim bulb illuminate his way. He made sure to keep an ear out for Jet because he certainly didn't need to get caught in here.

Her room was nothing to be desired, which struck the hunter as odd. She was so possessive of that cube, daring anyone to come in without her explicit permission. Spike had never actually set foot in her room, and now that he did, he couldn't figure out what she was hiding. He noticed that her bag was gone and empty clothes hangers lay by a chair, but that didn't mean anything. At the foot of her bed was the TV that he and Jet had gone out to find, the beta deck connected to it.

Kicking the TV and deck with his foot, Spike prodded until both machines turned on. As he expected, the little girl who turned out to be Faye, stared back at him with that goofy, not Faye, grin. He felt himself softly smile at the girl as she cheered her heart out, but quickly pushed his face back into that tight line. Faye was no reason to smile, not then and not now. He could find solace, though, in the fact that she was gone. Or at least he thought he could.

Turning the machines back off, Spike quickly left her room, realizing why he never went in there in the first place. He didn't want to know anything about her. What he knew was more than enough. Even though she may have been an interesting case study, he didn't need more problems than he already had. And for anyone who had ever encountered "Poker Alice", you _knew_ that Faye always equaled trouble.

But in a way, all of her troubles gave her an extra sense. And that extra sense seemed to get him. That thought gnawed at his brain, demanding that he miss her, but he smothered that feeling, and headed on to bed.

_I've got my hand at redemptions' side,  
__Whose scars are bigger than these doubts of mine._

Spike tussled around in his bed for a while, frustrated with himself. He was damn tired, but he wasn't about to fall asleep. _She_ was keeping him awake. More often then not, she always kept him awake. Sitting upright, Spike grabbed a cigarette from the pack on his tiny night stand, wondering briefly what he'd do without that precious nicotine.

If it wasn't one thing, it was another, and this time, that damnable woman kept him up with worry. It was one of those deep, dark secrets of his, but ever time she left, he worried. The galaxy wasn't a safe place, and she wasn't a smart girl a lot of the time, but then again, she _had_ survived without him and Jet before. But now she was unstable because now she had her memories. And he just hoped that that wouldn't make her blind.

Cursing himself and kicking a sock that was next to his bed, Spike tried to think about something, _anything_ that would get his mind off of his shrew. _THAT_ shrew! _The_ shrew. Definitely not _his_ shrew…or his anything. He tried to shift his thoughts to Julia, since that's who he should have been thinking of all along, but Spike knew that it wouldn't work. Thoughts of Julia rarely won over thoughts of Faye. It was the intrigue thing again. Spike knew that Julia was still alive somewhere, or at least that's what he felt, but the very alive and very in-his-face Faye was somehow more alluring.

He'd tried to apologize to the memories of Julia, but there would be no point. It's not as if she would hear him, and even so, it's not as if he wouldn't commit that sin over and over again. It was a funny thing, the way that religion played in to his life, even though Spike was no kind of God-fearing man. But Julia was his angel, and Vicious had been his Lucifer. And he was somewhere tossed in the middle, perhaps a fallen angel as his former comrade had suggested.

He fell, for he sinned; and he sinned, for he coveted. He was proud that he remembered that commandment, even if he didn't follow it. But what commandments did he follow, anyway? Definitely not the one that stated "Thou shalt not kill". And now, even if wasn't explicitly stated in the Bible, Spike knew that his feelings for Faye, as miniscule as they were, were unacceptable. "Thou shalt not lie with those that can undo you," or something to that effect is what should describe the minx.

But no matter how hard he tried to turn Faye to sin, he had that sinking feeling that she was actually his redemption.

_I'll fit all of these monstrosities inside,  
__And I'll come alive, come alive._

He'd done a lot of shitty things in his past. A lot of fucked up things, too. He was the real sinner in all of this, him and no one else. Hell had reserved him a pretty classy spot, of this he was sure, but he just hadn't made it there yet. Soon, he thought to himself, smiling ruefully in the darkened room.

It's not like he'd ever ask anything of the woman, and he especially didn't want anything from her. And though the thought had crossed his mind briefly (if one could call every few seconds 'brief'), Spike would never want _that_ from her. Well…no, never. And it's not as if she would willingly give, anyway. He'd called her a whore more than once, which had violated his code of honor, you know, being nice to woman and children and all, but he knew his words weren't true. She was too guarded, too lost inside herself to be so careless with the rest of her. Sex appeal could go a long way, but Spike easily doubted that she'd ever walked the walk. Or at least, not in this new life of hers.

And if that _were_ the case, the he would certainly never warrant receiving such a thing. He was the beast, while she was the beauty, if he dared to delve into the world of fairy tales. He'd seen a lot of things, and done a lot of stuff, and if she even knew the half of it, then he was sure that she'd have left and really never come back ages ago.

But he wasn't really making sense now, at least not to his self. Religion, fairy tales, all of it was out of his realm, and none of it made sense. Then again, Faye always played with his head. There was something about her, though, that broke him out of his funk every now and then. She often times woke him from his dream, and made him feel so alive. Stupid, stupid thought by all accounts, but at times, there was nothing he could do about it.

_With my fist still at your feet,  
__I was running out of mysteries._

There was a shuffling of slippers past his door, and Spike sighed at the realization that Jet was up. He held his breath until he was sure that the ex-cop had passed his room, seeing as though he wasn't in the mood to talk at the moment. He wanted to figure out why he was feeling this, why he was thinking that…why _anything_ in the realm of Faye.

Putting out his cigarette, suddenly knowing that Jet had to know that he was awake due to the smoke smell, Spike sighed and flopped back down onto his pillow. He began to think about who he'd miss more, barring that no one came back. He couldn't make a case for the dog; he'd been against the mutt since day one. Ed, on the other hand, had made him smile more often than not, and her prescence would be missed. He'd even miss hearing himself referred to as "Spike-person", as shocking as that may sound.

After several minutes more of nonsensical thinking, Spike was just about to dwell on Faye, when he felt the ship jolt awake. He knew the sensation all to well, and hurried to find Jet. The man wasn't hard too find, though, seeing as someone had to steer the old clunker.

"Are we leaving?" Spike asked, noticing his voice was rough from disuse.

"Yep. Got no reason to stay, do we? Might as well get back to Mars, since that's where we were headed any way."

Spike thought on the man's words, and was at first going to leave things like that, but he couldn't keep himself from questioning.

"But what about the kid? What if she comes back?"

"If she wants to come back, she'll find us. We'll be the biggest damn toy space ship if she does."

It wasn't hard to detect the sadness in Jet's voice. He'd grown fond of the lanky girl with the wild hair. She was happy, carefree, and crazy. Everything that anyone in their position would want to be. And there was no denying that Jet had fallen for the old "man's best friend" ruse. Without the little dog around to trail behind him, Spike had to admit that that would take some getting used to.

Shrugging his shoulders and knowing that there was nothing that they could do, Spike turned and headed off to somewhere.

"Aren't you gonna ask about that woman?" Jet's voice cut through the silence.

"Huh?" Spike asked, pretending as if he didn't hear. "Oh, _her_. She'll be back in a day or two, she always comes back."

"This time's different, Spike, and you know it. What if she doesn't come back this time?"

"Then that's more than fine with me," he lied through his teeth. "That just means more food for us. Besides, I was starting to miss the old days where it was just you and me. We don't need kids, animals, and women with attitude clogging up our ship, anyway."

"Back to _our_ ship, huh?" Jet easily questioned. "Do we even know how to get on with 'em? They settled in pretty quick. They made life, I dunno, like something I've never experienced before, and I know the same goes for you. What'll we do now, now that we no longer have them to figure out?"

The hum of the engine filled the empty space between the two men, allowing them to ruminate on the situation they now found themselves in. It would be weird without the woman folk and the livestock around, even if one of the stragglers found their way back. But they'd settle into a routine again, it was how things seemed to go.

"You up for a beer when we get back to Tharsis?" Jet asked, new routine falling in to place.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Spike feel in to step.

_Insecure and incomplete,  
__Here I am, here I am,  
__Won't you get me?_

It was back to just the two of them, they way it had been in a time that seemed so long ago. Sitting in the "Loser Bar", and wretchedly appropriate name for the joint, Spike and Jet absently sipped at their drinks, their minds lost in the twinkle of the ice in their glass.

What if she _didn't _come back, what if Jet was right? Spike hated to think about missing her, but he hated to think about not seeing her at all. His thoughts were bordering on utter stupidity, but Spike couldn't pull himself to think of anything other than Faye. Even here on Mars, the feel of Julia pounding in his bloodstream, he still thought of her.

It was a ridiculous thing to consider, and something he would surely never say, but the feelings he associated with Faye felt right in his mind, which unfortunately wasn't fogged by alcohol. The best way he could explain it, even though he wasn't looking for an explanation, was that when Faye was around, he was disturbingly insecure. And when she was gone, he was terribly incomplete.

Here he was, and there was Jet, but she wasn't at either of their sides. In the world of yesterday, that's how things would be. The three adults would be relaxing at the bar, while the ship would wearily be left in Ed's not so capable hands, hoping that Ein would keep her in line. But not tonight. The only thing that surrounded Spike and Jet now was an unflinching sense of dread.

_I've got my hand at redemptions' side,  
__Whose scars are bigger than these doubts of mine.  
__I'll fit all of these monstrosities inside…_

It was a pity to see another innocent waiter take a bullet to the head, but there was nothing that Spike and Jet could do for him now. All their efforts were now focused on keeping themselves alive, which would prove to be a task, indeed. Something was wrong, but Spike wasn't able to explain how he knew that. That sense of dread could only take him so far. When he saw a flash of the Red Dragon insignia, though, Spike was sure that some crazy shit must have gone down.

The pained groan that came from his side snapped Spike back in to this bloody reality, as he realized Jet had been shot. Whipping around and easily returning the favor to Jet's shooter, but this time, more deadly, Spike cursed himself for getting Jet into this situation. When he saw Shin come around the corner and shoot an operative instead of him, Spike was _positive_ that some crazy shit had gone down.

And connect it all back to Vicious, is how that had played out. Well, when you consort with the devil, you're bound to be banished as well. Too bad Spike didn't learn that lesson from Beelzebub. With the help of Shin, who had grown since the last time he saw him, Spike was able to get Jet out of there safely…or as safely as he could.

Only after Spike had helped Jet hobble home, was he even able to begin to contemplate what he was going to do. This coup gone wrong was going to get him _and _Jet killed if he didn't do something about it. Spike got the feeling that things were coming to an end. If he were a song, then the bridge was almost over, and he was about to plunge into the refrain one last time.

He knew he wasn't a one hit wonder, but he knew he was no chart topper, either, and Spike had a feeling that this would probably be his last solo. He sighed as he realized that he'd probably be abandoning Jet, too, and that really brought him down. The Black Dog didn't deserve this, the dissolution of his pack, but there was nothing more that Spike could really do.

Giving up his coveted spot on the couch, Spike let Jet try and sleep off the pain. He then went and sat in front of the main console, grappling with the decision to call or not. If he did, he'd have to deal with her, and Spike just had too much on his plate at this moment. But if he didn't call, then Jet would most likely be left alone after everything went down, and that was, as he thought earlier, unfair to him.

Spike would never deny what he was, which was: "a bad person who did bad things". He could have pretended to be "a bad person who did good things", or to be "a good person who did bad things", or the hard to come by "good person who did good things", but Spike knew where he fell. But for all the bad things he did, he did still have the capacity to do good, and for Jet, he'd do just that.

_And come alive, come alive, alive, come alive.  
__My fears have worn me out…_

He gave in a called, though he always knew he would, and he wasn't one bit surprised when she answered quite irritably. But he laid out the situation in precise, uncensored words, and he could easily see the shock on her face. She'd be back later than sooner, as he saw she was still dangerously close to Earth. For a moment, he wondered that if Jet hadn't needed her, would she have come back at all. What had minutes ago seemed unrealistic, now stung Spike with a slap of reality. He was getting a lot of those, lately.

_My fears have worn me out…_

Checking on a still sleeping Jet as he headed to the mock weapons room, Spike tried to plot a course of actions, but gave up rather quickly. He wasn't so much a thinker, as he was a doer. "Balls to the wall" is how he did things, and that usually got him through. But what was there to plan for, what was there to fear? It was almost the final curtain call; he could feel it when he breathed. And for all of his years living in his dream, Spike realized that he was as tired as a dog.

_My fears have worn me out…_

There were no clock in the room, and he didn't bother to keep time, but he eventually heard wheels on the landing strip and heels on metal. It was about time that she decided to show up, but Spike wasn't sure if he was ready to see her yet, which was funny, seeing as though he'd never been nervous to see her before. But as he already knew, things were changing, and the Faye that was on the ship now, wasn't anything like that Faye that was on the ship three days ago.

He saw her reflected in the glass, and mentally smiled to his self, glad that his old trick hadn't failed. He could easily see she had something to say, the tell-tell shift giving her away. He'd be lying, though, if he said he wasn't shocked by what she told him. So Julia _was _still alive. In retrospect, he wasn't shocked at all, seeing as though Julia never had a real reason to be dead. He chalked that up to his brain making up its own dream interpretations.

Now he had to decide how to go about things, since Julia threw a chink into his not so formulated plan. See her or see him? He supposed it didn't matter; he'd meet them both in the end, anyway. But he decided he'd see her first. Staring at Faye's hesitant form in the glass, though, Spike gave serious thought to just starting up the Bebop and forgetting all of the shit that was coming to claim him.

_My fears have worn me, worn me out._

That wouldn't help anyone in the end, though. His problems would follow him, and his problems would become _their_ problems, and then they'd all be on the run for something that actually didn't pertain to any of them. And if he ran, it would just prove to his self that he wasn't ready to face the troubles that still plagued him. Since he had finally classified himself as not only a bad man, but a man who did bad things, as well, he figured he'd add "man who can take care of his shit", to that list as well.

When it all boiled down to it, he was simply tired. Worn out and tired of running. He had to wake up, he couldn't dream any longer. He wasn't Rip Van Winkle, after all. And there he was again; making obscure references to things he didn't really know about. But that was beside the point. He had things to take care of; things to finish, and at least this situation took his mind off of Faye.

Well, it did until he put his mind back on to her. Staring at her from the seat of his craft, he was pretty sure he saw tears in her eyes, but he didn't dare address that. For all the guff that he could give her, he decided to spare her just this once. After all, he couldn't very well tease the very thing he hoped would save him in the end.

_I've got my hand at redemptions' side,  
__Whose scars are bigger than these doubts of mine._

As he flew his ship back to the Bebop, probably for the last time, Spike was very glad that he hadn't chastised Faye earlier. His angel was officially dead, so there would be no salvation to be found her.

It was an odd sensation, as was his modus now days, but he took a moment to delve into the world of people who believed in fate. When Laughing Bull had told him that he'd be hunted by a woman, then death (ooh), Spike had thought he referred to Julia. But suddenly, he didn't think that was the case. Julia couldn't hunt if her very life depended on it, but there was another woman in his life that could. But why would _she_ be instrumental in his death?

And then Spike's mind wandered back to things he had thought days before. Redemption. What if she could be that for him? What if that's what Bull was saying? What if Faye was his personal Angel of Death, offering him salvation just before his proverbial rope gave out? If that was the case, then perhaps death wouldn't be so bad. Besides, who was he to doubt a wise old man that lived in a teepee?

_I'll fit all of these monstrosities inside,  
__And I'll come alive._

Though there where things that Faye didn't know about him, and things that she would probably never knownow, she was no dummy either, despite calling her that, too. She _had_ spent time with Vicious, and if Spike knew him like he thought he did, then he knew that the man had told Faye _something_. So she was no complete stranger to his background, and yet she never questioned him about it. Maybe that was because she respected him that much, or maybe she just didn't want someone else's memories.

But for all of the things that he had kept wrapped inside himself, Spike couldn't, wouldn't shake the feeling that she knew that there was more to him then that. Loner, laid back, evil…all word could describe him, all words that she'd used against him, but there was an unspoken understanding between the two. They understood each other on a level that no one else could get to, and maybe that's how she "hunted" him, and maybe that's why he was almost willing to die.

_I've got my hand at redemptions' side,  
__Whose scars are bigger than these doubts of mine._

Cornering her in the hallway, seeing her tremble so slightly, he wasn't sure how to make this his goodbye. He also didn't know how to ask if he was forgiven. And he surely didn't know how to thank her for it all. So he made her privy to another part of himself, the only thing he ever really had to offer her. She told him to stop, she tried to look away, but he wouldn't allow her to, he simply had to do this.

Deep in her eyes, it was easy to find all the things she was hiding, which prompted him to look away himself, though he didn't. Her wounds ran deeper than his did, and he lamented on giving her his. But she let him, because it was that understanding between them, but he could see it in her eyes, that she demanded he try and come back. He promised her nothing, doubts still ebbing in his mind, but at least he promised her that.

_I'll fit all of these monstrosities inside._

He walked away from her, feeling lighter for some reason. Maybe he had finally gotten it right. He continued down the hall, ready to walk into the lion's den, but hoping he wouldn't be maimed too much. And there it was again, the religion that he didn't believe in. But if he did, just for shits and giggles, then he could see how he fit in with the lot of 'em. He was an angel. He broke a commandment. He fell from grace and then palled around with the devil, and now it was his turn to stand trial for sins. And the Angel of Death waited by his side, ready to take him, ready to deliver him from evil.

For a moment, Spike gave thought to reciting The Lord's Prayer, but he knew he wouldn't remember it. It seemed sacrilegious, anyway, and who was he to pretend? He tried his best not to be some punk poser, and he wasn't going to start now.

_And I'll come alive, I'll come alive._

He struggled down the steps, knowing he wasn't going to make it too much further. But that was okay, this was the ending he had been hoping for. Everything was a calming shade of blue, and he wasn't sure if should attribute that to blood lose, or the fact that his fake eye was giving out. Stopping short of the last few steps, he raised his arm, glad to not feel the pain that he was sure was there.

The alkaline taste of blood, his blood, leaked in to his mouth as he effortlessly forced a smile. 'Bang' is what he said, 'Amen' is what he thought, and he fell to the floor, feeling like he could finally carry his weight. There was still time to save him, he knew that much, but he didn't know if he'd try exceptionally hard to live. Even though he had good reasons to give life the ol' college try, he was feeling more alive then ever before. He'd just leave it all up to God, he figured. After all, what could it hurt?

As for his redemption, his salvation so sweet, either way, she'd forgive him. It wasn't in her to hate him, no matter what she said. She knew that she'd saved him and she knew she'd made him come alive, and hopefully that would hold her over if he didn't make it back up again. His mind slowly flashed to Ed's pinwheel, and the girl's bright, smiling face, then if shifted to the smile he had seen many a time on Jet's face. Even the mutt ran once through his mind, then there was a flash of purple and a sparkle of green…and then white.

_DON'T EVER DOUBT YOUR SOUL,  
SPACE COWBOY…_

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**and that's it. how was it? why not leave me a review and tell me. but if you do review, nothing harsh, please. well, that's if from me for now. it's back of to the adventures in sequel writing! thanks for stopping by!**

**- phoenix**


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